


in this world of strangers i belong to someone

by eavis, foundfamilyvevo



Series: straight for your heart (wolfpack au) [6]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Families of Choice, Gen, OT5, be kind to yourself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-31
Updated: 2017-01-31
Packaged: 2018-09-18 19:33:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9399929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eavis/pseuds/eavis, https://archiveofourown.org/users/foundfamilyvevo/pseuds/foundfamilyvevo
Summary: They all take a step back when they see him, hands tightening on their weapons. The leader raises his hands, placating. “Listen, mate, we’ve been chasing this ‘un for the better part of a week, alright? No pack, no family, definitely a hazard to ‘imself and others, yeah? We’ll be off your land in two shakes, won’t we lads?”Zayn smiles at them. It’s not a nice smile, especially combined with the banked red glow in his eyes. “That won’t be necessary.”They trade glances, clearly nervous. A lone omega is one thing, but no hunter wants to tangle with a young alpha in his prime. “Look, mate, he’s obviously not one of yours, so -”“Look, mate,” Zayn grits out, “you are on my land, chasing one of my brothers. I could take you to court over this, and if you’re not off my land by the time I count to one hundred, I’ll do much worse than that. Up to you.”or - Liam finds a home.





	

**Author's Note:**

> hi guys. it's been a rough week and a half here in the usa and im tired and sore and heartsick, so this is one way i'm fighting back. please enjoy!

_You are my home_  
_You make me strong_  
_And in this world of strangers_  
_I belong to someone_  
_You are all I know_  
_You're all I have_  
_I won't let go_

* * *

 

Zayn heard from Danny that there were hunters in the area chasing down rogue omegas, and that they’d just been on the Riach’s land two nights ago and the Lloyd’s the night before that, which meant that they were probably headed their way. He shifts easily into wolf-form and increases his normal patrolling from just a walk-around to a more purposeful, loping trot, nose to the ground and ears pricked for any sign of trouble. 

He’s completed his second round and is about to head back to the house when he hears what sounds like a cry. Not a cry for help or a scream, but an honest to goodness sob. He heads in the direction of the noise at a flat-out run, arriving in a small clearing to find three hunters standing over a cowering form, one of them reaching for the silver handcuffs in his back pocket. Zayn circles around until he’s behind the shivering figure, takes a quick sniff to make sure the poor omega doesn’t have hydrophobia, and then transforms back to human, stepping out of the shadows and putting himself between the hunters and their prey.

They all take a step back when they see him, hands tightening on their weapons. The leader raises his hands, placating. “Listen, mate, we’ve been chasing this ‘un for the better part of a week, alright? No pack, no family, definitely a hazard to ‘imself and others, yeah? We’ll be off your land in two shakes, won’t we lads?”

Zayn smiles at them. It’s not a nice smile, especially combined with the banked red glow in his eyes. “That won’t be necessary.”

They trade glances, clearly nervous. A lone omega is one thing, but no hunter wants to tangle with a young alpha in his prime. “Look, mate, he’s obviously not one of yours, so -”

“Look,  _ mate _ ,” Zayn grits out, “you are on my land, chasing one of my brothers. I could take you to court over this, and if you’re not  _ off _ my land by the time I count to one hundred, I’ll do much worse than that. Up to you.”

Zayn waits two beats and then grins, letting the barest hint of canines slide out. The hunters glance at each other and unanimously take off with what’s left of their dignity. Zayn turns at once and drops down by the omega. “Hey,” he says, gently. “You alright, mate?”

The omega untucks long enough to shoot Zayn a fearful look, eyes wide with terror still, and Zayn realises with a shock like an ice bath that the boy is scared of  _ him _ as well. He’s cowering back against the base of the tree, head bent so that his hair flops into his face, shadowing his eyes. It might have once been a nice, curly brown before it was caked with mud and blood. 

"I don't want to hurt you," Zayn murmurs, trying a similar voice to the one he uses when Niall is panicking.

The boy shrinks back, almost whimpering, and whispers, "Please - please don't, just leave me alone, please."

"Just want to help you to get back to your pack." Zayn reaches out, not quite touching, relieved that at least he's not feral; he can still communicate. He was worried for a minute.

The boy’s head shakes back and forth so fast Zayn’s afraid he’ll get whiplash. "No! No please, please, don't send me back!"

Zayn’s eyes close tightly for a second. A runaway, then. It happens. Not often, in Zayn’s experience, but often enough. It’s no wonder he’s so scared of Zayn if he was mistreated by his pack.

The omega is trembling, barely suppressed full-body shakes. "I'll go - I promise, I'll be out of your territory in a minute."

"You're not in any state to go anywhere," Zayn says softly. "Would you like to come back to our place and get a little patched up?"

"No, I'm fine I'm - I promise, I can go."

Zayn hesitates. He could use his alpha voice, except the boy is so clearly terrified already...but also to leave him in this state would be tantamount to a death sentence, one way or another. He ducks down, makes eye contact. "Come home with me so you can calm down safely," Zayn says, quietly but firmly. “You can decide what you’d like t’do after that, yeah?”

The eyes that meet his are wide, brown nearly swallowed up by pupils blown in fear, but he scrambles up and follows Zayn meekly enough. When they get to the porch, he takes two or three quick steps back, eyes jittering between the stairs and then back to Zayn and back again to the woods. 

Louis pops his head out of the door, eyebrows meeting his hairline. "Well, are you lot coming in or are you just admiring the scenery?"

The omega cowers back, flinching away from the bright light and louder voice. Zayn snaps Louis a warning glare and crouches down, saying gently, "'s all right, love, that's just Louis, he's safe, I promise. Come inside, yeah, and we'll get you patched up; maybe sommat to eat."

Zayn waits, patient. The poor boy is clearly torn between fear of Louis and wanting to obey an alpha’s instructions, but finally he screws up his courage enough to move, shadowing Zayn closely and flinching when Louis opens the door wider.

Zayn gets the runaway settled on the chair that Niall usually takes, one with the back to the wall and a clear view of all the doors and easy access to the exits, and hauls Louis into the kitchen. "Listen, Lou, there's something seriously wrong with him. He doesn't have a pack, and there were hunters after him. Don't muck this up, yeah?"

Louis's expression turns serious and he swears quietly. “Yeah, okay. How old is he?"

"Dunno. Dunno his name, even. Bro, he's - he's in bad shape." Zayn pauses. “Think I might - send Harry and Niall out to the store. Don’t wanna overwhelm him.”

Louis sets his jaw. "Okay. You talk to them, then, and I’ll make the lad some tea and see what I can do." He makes himself a cup of tea and an extra one for the boy in the lounge.

**______**

Liam looks up as the other wolf from the porch walks in, head up and shoulders settled. He’s a few inches shorter than Liam is, and there’s an odd, dizzy sort of feeling that he’s almost bigger than the space he’s physically taking up, although that might just be the lack of food talking. It’s obvious from the moment he enters that he’s an alpha, too. It reads off his body language, off his scent. Liam shrinks back. 

The first alpha was bad enough; why are there two? Why is the new one holding a hot mug of something - where's the other one, the one who was nice - what if they  _ stop  _ being nice, that's happened before.

"Heya," says the second alpha. He’s speaking in a light tone, cheery but not loud or full. Liam isn’t sure about how it makes his stomach feel, all warm and - settled and unsettled at the same time, like he can’t decide if he wants to squirm or stay still. "'M Louis, made you a cup of tea. Didn't put any sugar in it; d’you want some though?" 

"No, I'm fine, thanks. I don't need anything." It comes out automatically, and Liam promptly feels like a proper idiot. He’s sat covered in mud and who knows what else, ‘s not like he’s coming off all posh anyway.

"S only going to go to waste if you don't have it," the alpha - Louis - points out and sets it within Liam’s reach on the coffee table. "What's your name, darlin'?"

"I'm - I'm Liam," Liam manages, eyeing the cup of tea. There’s still steam rising from it, and it smells so good. He's so hungry is the thing, and Louis is right. It’s going to go to waste if he doesn't drink it: tea's no good reheated. Glancing up, he tries to read Louis’s face. He can’t risk making an alpha angry, especially not in one’s house. He looks back down at the mug and cautiously reaches for it, trying to breathe through how making even this small movement sets his heart racing. 

"Liam,” repeats Louis. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Liam.” He tilts his head and smiles, nods to the mug in what is...maybe encouragement? Liam can’t tell. “No offense, but you look a little under the weather. Been sleeping rough?"

Even though the tea has nowhere near the amount of sugar Liam likes, it's still the best thing he's ever tasted. He feels the warmth running right down to his toes when he sips it, and it gives him the courage to answer. “Yeah, I mean…I haven't really been sleeping, um, very much. The past couple of days, there were - hunters? Sorry, your - um, your alph - your friend? Probably told you that."

"Yeah, Zayn mentioned something like that.” Louis wraps his hands around his mug and says almost off-hand, "How old are you, Liam?"

The way Louis says Liam’s name is weird. It sounds warm in his accent, teasing up at the edges and curling warm and comfortable like the tea Liam’s holding, but with the hint of sharpness that comes of not having his usual sugars in it. Liam - doesn’t know if he likes it or not, but he thinks he wants to hear it again.  "Eighteen," Liam replies, taking another slow sip of the tea. He almost closes his eyes to enjoy the warmth, but he really can't afford to let his guard down like that, no matter how nice these people have been so far.

"Uh huh.” Louis frowns. “Not to make this sound like an interrogation, but how long have you been a wolf?"

Liam thinks. Louis’s mouth twitches, like he nearly smiled, and Liam doesn’t know why. He tries not to linger on it too much. "About - six? Seven months ago, I s'pose? It was just before my birthday, I think." He remembers, because he remembers thinking just before he left his mum's house for the last time that at least no one would have the opportunity to not show up to his party again.

Louis nods, watches Liam for a long moment. “That's a long time to be by yourself, innit."

"Well, I wasn't the whole time. I mean, there were other packs for a bit, but -" Liam stops, flushes. He doesn't know very much about being a wolf, but he doesn't think he’s supposed to talk about what happened between him and other packs. It feels like it used to after he’d just finished a round in the ring with another bloke, and you’d touch gloves and keep the fight clean even if you didn’t  _ like _ the other lad very much, because that was just - just what you  _ did _ , right, and he’d a vague sort of feeling this was the same. 

"Ohh," says Louis, something in his tone changing from curious to sounding like something had just come clear for him. "I see. D’you want to tell me why that didn't work out?"

"Well I'm a. You know. I wasn't - um. Born a werewolf? And like. The person who bit me didn't, um, stick around. Apparently that's - pretty bad, if you wanna be part of a pack, I guess?" Liam glances at Louis’ face and rushes on, tripping over his words, "I mean, I get it, it's not - natural or whatever, you don't have to kick me out, I can leave, if you’ll just thank - um, the other one?? Zayn? For his help with the hunters."

"Not a single thing to be ashamed of there," Louis tells Liam firmly.  "You're not leaving."

Liam almost drops his cup of tea, a warmth of a different sort tentatively spreading through him. "Really, I can't ask you -"

"Nothing at all wrong with being bitten by an alpha who didn't stick around. That's their fault, not yours." Louis sips his own cup of tea. "At least stay long enough to get a good night's sleep, a meal or two in you, yeah?"

"Won't your - I mean, shouldn't you ask your -" Liam drops his eyes, fiddles with his cup. They're obviously both alphas, but Zayn said 'come home' like it was his house, but now Louis is the one in here with him, offering him a place to stay like it's  _ his _ house, and Liam is just. Very confused.

"Sorry? Didn't quite catch that," says Louis, "my what?"

Liam's grip tightens on his mug until his knuckles are white, but he meets Louis' eyes. "Your. The other alpha. Zayn."

"Babe, he's the one who brought you back here, I doubt he's going to mind," Louis points out. "I’ll talk to him about it later, though, don’t worry. You’re alright with there being two of us alphas? I know it’s a little unusual.”

“Oh, I didn’t -” Liam starts. Takes a deep breath, tries again. “I didn’t mean to - sound critical or anything, I just - didn’t know how things - I’m not used to all of this.”

"S' alright." The slightly defensive undertone disappears - Liam relaxes just a bit, because he must’ve said something right, finally - and Louis goes on, "There are four of us living here. Me and Zayn co-alpha, and there are two other wolves named Harry and Niall."

"Oh." Liam says faintly. "Are they - are they nice?" And then promptly wants to dump the now cold remnants of his tea over his head. He sounds like a kid asking about his mate's new friend.

But Louis just smiles, not seeming to find the question odd at all. "Very. They can be a bit much, but they're really nice."

"Oh," Liam says again. There's a brief silence, and then his stomach yowls loudly. He feels himself instantly go brick red.

"Hungry?" Louis asks, smile twitching at the corners of his mouth.

"I - yeah," says Liam, hunching in on himself. It's not like he can deny it  _ now _ . He presses a fist to his treacherous stomach, willing it to stop.

"When did you last have a proper meal?" Louis stands, glancing Liam up and down with his eyebrows drawn.

"Er. Tuesday?"

“Right.” Louis puts his hands on his hips, says decisively, “Food, then. We’ve definitely got some leftovers I could heat up while we wait for proper dinner.” He hurries into the kitchen, and Liam follows to hover in the doorway, unsure if he should come in or not.

"D’you mind pasta? ‘S a couple days old, but it looks fine. Could heat it up," Louis offers, surfacing holding a Tupperware container.

"I - pasta's great?" He’d hoped the tea would’ve been enough to hold him over until he left without causing an inconvenience. And with the the kind of meals he’s been having lately, only two days old is properly luxurious. 

Louis opens the lid and the smell of it spreads gently into the room **.** Before he can help himself, Liam's taken four steps forward and has his hand out, reaching, before he catches himself. It just smells  _ so good _ and he's  _ so hungry. _

"Shall I give it to you cold?" Louis says, that same smile lurking around the edges of his mouth, but there’s a sad tilt to it also.

"No I - I mean, sure, I don't want to put you to any trouble. I didn't mean to grab, I'm sorry." Liam doesn’t know what the right answer is. He’d be happy to eat it cold, but maybe this is - a test or something, and he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to say. 

"No need to be sorry," Louis frowns, and Liam’s heart sinks. He’d got the answer wrong after all, but Louis just goes on, “Just going to heat it up a little, alright? Tastes better that way.”

Liam waits the two minutes and thirty seconds the pasta's in the microwave, but only just. Louis hands him the bowl and sticks a fork in it. "Try to pace yourself? Don't overwhelm your stomach."

Liam nods, and he  _ tries _ , he knows it's good advice, but he's just so hungry, it's so hard. 

“Slow,” Louis says, voice stern, and Liam’s hand slips on the fork, dropping it. He freezes. Should he - pick it up, or is that - “Sorry,” he whispers, crouching. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to -“

Louis is quicker, though, scooping it up and tossing it into the sink before Liam can reach it. “No harm done, love,” he says, and his voice is gentle again. “Here, got loads more forks. Don’t match, but you can’t have everything when you get ‘em from the charity shop, eh? Didn’t mean to yell at you, before. Just didn’t want you making y’self sick is all. Let’s try again, yeah?”

Liam nods, takes the new fork from Louis with a hand that’s only trembling a little bit, and forces himself to slow down. Even so it’s gone only a couple minutes later, and he moves to the sink, reaching for the soap.

"Don't worry about that," Louis says quickly, "we'll do it with the rest of the dishes after dinner. No point now, really. "

Liam starts and fumbles, nearly drops the bowl. "Oh, um. Okay." He rinses the bowl out and sets it in the sink, twisting his hands together almost unconsciously.

"Liam.” And Louis is frowning again, but his voice is still gentle, and Liam doesn’t know what that  _ means _ . “Is there - I think I’m making you nervous, and I don’t mean to. Is there sommat I could do to help you calm down?”

"No, you're fine, I'm just - it's my fault, I'm sorry, you've been lovely, I'm just a bit. Jumpy I guess, I'm sorry."

"Don't apologise, for goodness’ sake.” Louis scrubs a hand through his hair, looking tired.

"Sorry," says Liam automatically. "Oh! Sorry! I - sor- I'm just. Going to shut up now. Right. Okay."

The front door opens at that moment and the sound of laughter echoes down the entry hall, then another voice, sounding offended, and then an answering amused rumble. Liam shrinks back against the counter, feeling overwhelmed and a bit silly for it.

"Hey," Louis leans forward, eyes on his. "None of us are going to hurt you. They’re all really nice, remember? And you’ve met Zayn already."

"Right," Liam breathes, forcing his fingers to relax. "Right, sorry - I mean. Um. Okay."

Zayn pokes his head into the kitchen and glances between them before asking Louis, "How is he, then?"

Louis raises an eyebrow. "You could ask him." 

Zayn looks apologetic, turns to Liam, "Sorry, of course. My bad. You okay, love?"

Liam's trying to not look as uncomfortable as he feels - seems like he was just starting to get used to Louis and now Zayn is back, and he's forcibly reminded that Louis and Zayn are both alphas and he doesn’t even know how that  _ works _ because most alphas are - well, Liam can’t afford to think about other alphas right now or he’ll run straight out the door as far and fast as he can. "I'm good, yeah, Louis - um, he got me some pasta. I hope that was okay?"

"’Course it is," says Zayn, blinking. "That's fine."

“The hunters cleared out?” Louis is looking at Zayn, voice pitched low.

“Gone,” Zayn says, briefly. “Must be clear to Leeds by now.”

"Lou?" A voice comes from the hall. "Louis, can I come start tea?"

"Just a mo, Haz," Louis calls, looks at Liam. "Would you like to have a shower? Could do it before tea."

Liam glances nervously past Zayn through the doorway, "I - yeah, thank you. Maybe I could - could meet the rest of your pack first? If that's okay?" Louis has been so kind to him, the least he can do is make an effort.

Louis touches his arm, and his smile is so warm that Liam nearly stops feeling anxious. "Good lad," he says, soft, and calls, "Harold! Nialler!"

A curly brown head comes around the doorway almost immediately, and Liam feels almost bowled over by the dimples and mouth and excited, “Hi!” that all assaults him at once. There’s another boy that slips in after him, bright blond hair and equally bright blue eyes, who goes at once to Zayn’s side and slips his hand into the alpha’s, regarding Liam with a small but genuine smile.

"Hi," Liam says back, smile tugging at the corner of his mouth almost before he knows it.

“The curly bloke here is Harry, and the fit Irish one is Niall.” Louis tugs on one of Harry’s curls affectionately.

Liam thought he'd be intimidated but - it's pretty hard to be intimidated by Harry. Especially with Harry smiling at him like that, and when Niall waves with the hand not holding Zayn’s, looking a bit nervous and shy himself - it’s hard to be intimidated by Niall, too.

Harry drapes himself atop Louis, and Louis curls an arm over his neck, easy and warm. "What’s for tea, then, Harold?”

"Don’t call me that; Liam’ll think it’s actually my name." Harry rolls his eyes, then, thoughtfully, "Maybe roast? We've got potatoes for it."

"Yeah, alright, but don't make the potatoes all lumpy, yeah? Last time they were lumpy and I can't get into that, Harold, I really can't."

“Heyyy," Harry whines. "I’ll get Niall to help."

Louis rolls his eyes right back. "Look, I'm not pointin' fingers here, but last time you lot marathoned Buffy when you made dinner and no offence, but those potatoes were  _ terrible _ ." 

Liam’s watching the exchange with bewilderment that only deepens when Niall pipes up, "It's your fault, Louis, you were the one who told us to watch it in the first place, weren't you."

Liam sucks in a breath, waits for the casual backhanded slap or verbal dressing down that's sure to come. Liam has seen omegas hit for less cheek - Liam has been hit for less cheek, for things he really meant sincerely and were taken the wrong way. He starts scouting his exits, wondering if he should sneak out of the room before it happens.

But Louis just. Rolls his eyes again. Zayn says quietly, "Enough, lads. Liam, d'you want that shower, now?" His dark eyes are fixed on Liam’s face, and it’s a bit dizzying, that kind of attention. The most Liam can manage is a silent nod.

"Niall," Zayn says. "Can you run and get a clean towel from the laundry, please?" Niall squeezes Zayn's hand, offers Liam a smile, and disappears out the door. "I'll show you the bathroom," Zayn says,  tilting his head to indicate Liam should follow him.

Liam glances at Louis, nervous, and Louis gives him a quick nod and a wink; Liam flushes almost reflexively and hurries out.

It's a  _ nice _ bathroom, he thinks a couple minutes later, once Zayn's left him alone with a towel and  clean t-shirt and trackies, not like, osten-whatsit, but homey. There's about five different bottles of shampoo and conditioner piled on the ledge of the tub and the walls are a hideous shade of blue but  - it's nice.

When Liam gets out of the shower, he follows his nose down to where something that smells even better than the pasta is cooking, his old clothes tucked under his arm.

Harry looks up when he sees him, smiling happily. "Liam! Did you like the shower? I hope you used my shampoo and not Louis'. His is bloody awful."

Liam doesn't mention how long it's been since he got to wash his hair properly at all so he really would’ve settled for dog shampoo at this point, just nods quickly, “Yeah, it was really nice, thanks.”

“Got any strong opinions on vegetables? Still have to pick a third ‘sides the potatoes and carrots.” Niall’s smiling at him, too, and it’s so easy and friendly that Liam blurts without quite meaning to - "I hate beets." He backtracks quickly, afraid of offending these people _already_ , idiot, "I mean, whatever you have is fine, obviously, I didn't mean to - if we're having beets, that's fine."

Harry's just smiling patiently, and Niall's chuckling a little, but it doesn’t  _ sound _ mean, and he says, “Fresh out of beets, I’m afraid, so we’ll all have to do without tonight. Corn alright instead?”

And Liam just nods thankfully. Harry says after a moment, "Your hair is so  _ fluffy _ ," sounding absolutely delighted. Liam’s hair was pretty dirty before and now it's drying into a cloud. He hasn’t seen a hair straightener in over a year, and it’s drying into its normal mass of messy not-quite-curls.

Liam blushes at the idea of someone actually  _ liking _ his hair this way, fingers flexing uncomfortably on the bundle of clothes still in his hands, which reminds him, "Um, what would you like me to do with these? I could - wash them or -“

"Just bin them, I expect," Louis says, coming in from the opposite doorway and wrinkling his nose. "They smell  _ awful _ . No offense, Liam."

"Is that what you were wearing before?!"  Harry demands. "Forget binning, we should burn them."

"Oh, er." Liam shifts, nervous. “It’s just - I haven’t really got anything else, at the moment, is all, so -”

Harry waves him off. “We’ve got lots of spare things, don’t worry about that a minute.”

Niall rolls his eyes at Harry fondly. "Could do something useful instead of just talking at him, Hazza. I'll take them, Liam." He fishes underneath the sink for a bag and holds it out for Liam to drop them into. Zayn comes into the kitchen, too, smiling ‘round at them all. “Smells good in here, lads. Heya, Liam. Feels a bit better being in clean things, yeah?”

“Definitely,” Liam manages over the same dizzy feeling from before that comes when Zayn fixes his eyes on him.

They serve up dinner pretty soon, the roast vegetables and chicken, and Liam keeps feeling like he’s in some sort of dream-daze, overwhelmed and kind of stunned by all the easy talking and laughing and teasing they all do. It's nothing like the couple of stilted 'pack' dinners he'd gone to before he was kicked out. And Harry starts eating before Louis is at the table, even. Once an omega did that at one of the dinners and got sent out and didn't eat for a day and a half. Liam feels himself pale just watching Harry do it, but Louis comes in and sits down and doesn’t even seem to notice? And Zayn just shakes his head fondly at Harry and piles more potatoes onto Liam's plate. 

They won’t let him clear up the dishes, either, waving him off when he tries to offer, and Niall says cheerfully, “Zayn and Lou’s job, innit, since they didn’t help us cook. Lazy buggers. C’mon, I’ll show you to your room.”

Liam’s halfway up the stairs, head a muddle of confusion from Niall calling his alphas ‘lazy buggers’ before he realises the rest of what Niall said. “Wait, sorry - my room?”

Niall pushes the door open, pauses with his hand on the light switch. “For as long as you want it, at any rate. Just changed the linens last week, so they should be all right. There’s more quilts and things in the chest there. Louis’ gran is a great one for the quilts, and she still sends him one every year for his birthday, so we’ve all got a million. Reckon you’d be pretty tired - know I always am after a rough day, and it seems like you’ve had a rough few months.” 

Niall’s face is so open and warm despite his fingers fidgeting about with the edge of his shirt, and it feels like seeing the first shaft of warm sunlight in January when the only reasonable thing to do is go stand in it as fast as possible for as long as possible, and Liam feels horribly like he’s going to cry. “I - thanks,” he manages, hoping he doesn’t sound like a complete tosser.

But Niall just smiles. “Anytime, mate,” he says simply. “Sleep well, yeah? Don’t let the bedbugs bite ‘n all that. If y’need anything at all, just let one of us know.” He reaches out, touches the back of Liam’s hand just briefly, and disappears back down the stairs.

Liam spends a long time staring at the place Niall touched, wondering if it just feels like the skin there was branded or if there’s something there now that everyone can see - something that says that someone touched him like he was something good and worthy, like he was something to be gentle with, before he slowly, thoughtfully turns down the covers and climbs into bed.

**Author's Note:**

> ALSO i've been a horrible person bc i haven't been thanking my INCREDIBLE beta B (@littlepetlouis on tumblr!) for her encouraging beta'ing of all these for me. thank you my love!


End file.
